


The Blood in your Veins Excites Me

by cbtothekk



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: (kind of), Aphrodisiacs, Creepy, Drugs, F/M, Fluff, Kidnapping, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shameless Smut, Stalking, Yandere Lawrence (Boyfriend to Death), Yandere character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-07-06 08:57:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15882798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cbtothekk/pseuds/cbtothekk
Summary: (Yandere!Lawrence x Reader)It started out as an innocent fascination. And to be honest, it did. But it grew into something more. Something darker, less innocent and sweet. But, he couldn’t take it anymore. This itch… it had escalated, slowly at first, until it was the white-hot rash burning at his skin that he knew today. It wasn’t his fault, he would reason with himself. It was not his fault. It wasn’t. You were the one to be held accountable for. Not him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeet it seems I've been writing a lot of btd content lately (I'm writing about Strade and Ren next ;))  
> UHHHHHHHHH please enjoy this mostly self-indulgent piece of s h i t that I made because I want a soft Yandere s/o to love me T_T  
> Also- if anyone wants me to convert this so that reader is a different gender/ has different pronouns please comment below and I will 100% do that because I would hate for someone to feel excluded! I only wrote this for females because like stated above, this was originally meant for me and a friend of mine but I decided to post it here.  
> Wow sorry for the rant, please enjoy!

Read on [Tumblr](https://trashczar.tumblr.com/post/177690057803/the-blood-in-your-veins-excites-me)

 

* * *

 

 

It started out as an innocent fascination.

 

-

 

He hated leaving his apartment. It was cold and too bright and there were so many people. It felt as if there were eyes on him at all times, he had no privacy. It scared him, made him nervous. But, sometimes he was forced to leave his apartment. He needed more fertiliser for his plants, one had grown too big for its pot and needed re-potting. He needed more fertiliser. Luckily it was late, late enough for there to be little people still out and about, but early enough for his local plant nursery to still be open.

Walking through the automatic doors filled him with dread. He probably wouldn’t have to speak to any employee’s, he had been there many times before. But the familiar smell of the nursery did nothing to calm his anxiety. He rubbed his sweaty palms over his faded jeans, eyes shifting around the building nervously, looking for the desired section.

His heart sunk, it seemed that the store had done the unnecessary yet again and changed the layout of the store. He subconsciously scratched at his clothed forearms as he wandered cluelessly around the store, looking for any sign to direct him in the right direction.

“Hey there, is there any way I can help you?” A soft voice interrupted his mild panic. He flinched, turning around and stumbling slightly.

“Oh. I’m sorry for startling you…” The woman frowned, looking genuinely concerned.

Lawrence shook his head. He stuttered nervously, eyes looking everywhere but the woman. “No. I-I’m looking for fertiliser.”

The woman smiled warmly. “Ah! I’m sorry, we just changed the layout of the store. If you’ll follow me, I can show you where we keep it now.”

Lawrence nodded, his face warming slightly. The woman seemed unfazed with Lawrence’s strange behaviour.

As Lawrence followed behind the woman, he noticed how her walk was of liquid grace, seamlessly weaving around plant pots littered around the ground. He was captivated with her effortless beauty. The way her hair swayed softly with each stride. It looked soft and healthy. He wanted to be the one to help it grow.

“Do you like plants?” The woman asked idly, slowing her walk as she shifted her gaze behind her towards Lawrence.

Lawrence nodded softly. “I do. I like the way they… need me,” he muttered.

The girl smiled, her eyes shutting briefly. “That’s different, I haven’t heard that one before.” Lawrence felt momentarily disheartened, of course she wouldn’t understand. “But, I do agree. I can see how it can give you a sense of power. Sounds… Interesting? Maybe I should buy a plant,” she continued.

Lawrence sped up his pace to match hers, noticing the nametag reading ‘(Y/N)’. He smiled, it suited her well.

“He we are. Do you need help choosing?”

He didn’t, but he wanted to talk to her more. Something that didn’t happen often, so he wanted to make the most of it. He didn’t want her to leave.

“Yes please.”

She nodded, asking a few questions regarding what plant he needed it for, and how much he would need.

“Oh, in that case—” she cut herself off with a grunt as she lifted a large bag and placed it into a shopping cart nearby, “—I think this one will suit you best.”

Lawrence frowned. She could have hurt herself with a bag that heavy. “Be careful…”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, I’ll be fine. Now, is there anything else you require, Plant Boy?” she teased.

Brows furrowed in worry, Lawrence shook his head.

Lawrence arrived home that night happy that he had ventured outside of his apartment.

 

-

 

It was a week later when Lawrence returned to the place you worked. This time, he didn’t need anything. He just wanted to see you. It was also daylight. He wanted to see you in the natural light, instead of the unflattering industrial lighting.

Lately his dreams had been filled with the colour of your eyes. Your angelic voice. He wanted to see you smile, but he couldn’t settle for imagining it anymore. It was like an itch, but it didn’t matter how much he scratched it, it felt as if it was embedded under his skin and he couldn’t reach it. He felt so uncomfortable.

He needed to see you so all of this would stop. He wanted to go back to raising his plants.

Walking inside, he noticed that you weren’t at any of the check-outs. Suddenly the thought that maybe you weren’t here entered his mind. He felt mad. How dare you not be here when he wanted you to be.

“Hey! How can I help ya, ya look lost?” A loud voice shouted in his direction. Lawrence grimaced, he didn’t enjoy how loud this person was being, the stranger’s presence was obnoxious. Lawrence shuffled away quickly, hoping to not attract anymore unwanted attention.

He found a section of cacti, a type of plant he disliked. Cacti could survive for a long time, with no need for care. If he were to mistreat a cactus, it would most likely still survive. He hated them.

“Hello sir, how may I- Oh! Plant Boy!”

It was you. He whipped around, surprised to see you. Just as he thought, you looked even more beautiful in the daylight.

“Lawrence. My name, I mean…” he stuttered, his ears reddening.

You smiled, “Nice to see you again, Lawrence. I’m (Y/N).” The way you said his name made his knees weak. You were breathtaking. You held out your hand towards him. He stared at it as if it was holding a knife to his throat. You felt bad, so you slowly retreated your hand back to your side, frowning in the process.

Lawrence panicked, he didn’t like seeing you make such a sad face. He snatched up your hand, shaking it gently. His face bloomed a dark red shade, and he quickly let go of your hand, avoiding eye contact.

 “I have to go.” He uttered, embarrassed.

“Oh. Okay…” He was already leaving, not sparing you another glance as he awkwardly shuffled away, avoiding your co-workers like the plague. He hadn’t even bought anything.

 

-

 

He had to see you again. Just once more, he tried to reason with himself. He knew it was a lie. He could still feel the warmth of your hand. It was so soft. He had been so close to you. You smelt like dirt and leaves with a hint of cheap perfume. His hand smelt like you.

It was his new favourite scent.

He sat in his car, staring at his hand. It had dirt on it. Dirt that had touched your hand. Dirt that had touched your hand and was now touching his hand.

He immediately regretted washing it off that night.

 

-

 

He spent the next few weeks committing your work schedule to memory, which days you worked and what times you started and finished. He had it written down in an old and worn notebook he had bought at a thrift store. Some days your hair was greasy and unkempt, it was obvious that those days you had slept in. Some days your hair was wavy from bed, yet still presentable. Some days it was clean and straight, either straightened or combed out. Even the days when you were late to work, and your clothing was messy, there was still something about you that drew Lawrence in. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but you were a magnet to him.

He sat outside of the plant nursery in an obscured corner. It was dark now and you’d be off any time now. He had a camera in his hands. It was cheap, but good enough quality to capture what he needed to. He knew the pictures would never compare to the real thing, but he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least try to capture your beauty.

The automatic doors opened. One hand waving goodbye to your co-workers, the other lazily clutching at the strap of your backpack. You had such pretty hands.

He brought the camera up to his eye, taking a quick shot of you. The resounding shutter of the camera lens caught your attention, a look of confusion apparent on your face as you turned to face the area where the noise came from. Lawrence bathed in your expression; any face you made brought him euphoria. He took another picture. He wanted to see your face when you were scared, when you were mad, when you were… aroused. He wanted to see it all, to have it all to himself. He wanted to be able to bring any emotion he wanted to your face, to be able to manipulate it freely.

You quickened your pace, clutching at your backpack straps tighter.

Lawrence did not follow immediately. He quickly checked the outcome of the photos. It was too dark to make anything out. He turned the flash on, then followed you around the corner; sneaking in the shadows. From what he already knew, you didn’t live too far away, and no public transport would be needed. It was lucky for him—you knew his face, and if you saw him get onto the same bus as you with a camera around his neck, you would be suspicious.

You stood still at a traffic light. There were no cars passing, but the light was red. You were so cute, abiding by the law even when there was seemingly no one around. The bright red stoplight brought out the colour in your eyes.

Lawrence crouched behind a small bush, steadying his camera. He counted, just before the light would turn green, he would take the picture. Less likely that you would bother to turn around and try to stop him.

3… 2… now.

You flinched at the sudden bright light, but the light turned green and you hurried across the road. You would turn back periodically, paranoid. It was so _cute_.

Lawrence decided not to follow you any further. He would save the fun for another night.

 

-

 

The veins of your hands and neck stood out in the bright red light of the stoplight, the surprised expression on your face inexplicably adorable, your hair messy from the slight wind.

The image was perfect. He framed it.

 

-

 

He followed you home after work one evening, writing your address down into his journal. It was as if you sensed him there, watching you, as you turned around at every noise.

He was nervous too, afraid that you’d discover who he was and hate him. Lawrence knew this wasn’t the normal way to get to know someone, he knew your fear was understandable. He too would hate to be stalked… But for some reason he couldn’t keep himself away.

Your house was average. A little dirty. But the inside could always be different. Maybe you even had plants too… He wondered what type of plants you kept.

He watched as your shaking hands fumbled with the keys to unlock the door, failing to fit them into the lock on the first try. He felt slightly bad for scaring you. He’d make it up to you one day. When you were his.

You finally unlocked the door, roughly shouldering it open. He flinched as you slammed the door shut as soon as you were inside, locking it immediately. Lawrence returned home quickly, laying on his bed and remembering your trembling form. You looked so sweet, shaking and terrified. He remembered seeing the blood leave your face when you realised you weren’t alone. He wondered how warm you felt, how the warmth of your body would contrast against the cold air. He wanted to feel how warm you were.

 

-

 

He noted when the lights would shut off inside your house. He would creep in, eager to see your living space. It was a little messy, not that you had much time to clean with all the work you were doing. Judging by the pile of due bills on your kitchen counter, he knew you were living pay-check to pay-check. It just wouldn’t do. He could provide for you, you didn’t need to worry anymore.

He noticed a bundle of black fur curled up on a well-used couch. A cat, it awoke upon realising there was an intruder. It crouched down, a low growl sounding from its mouth. Lawrence tried hushing it, reaching his hand out for the animal to sniff. It slowly leaned in, before rubbing its head against his hand. Lawrence spent some time, sitting next to the cat, who he later found out was named Poe. It didn’t seem to trust him fully, but Lawrence was just glad that Poe wasn’t trying to attack him anymore.

 

Lawrence had grown quite fond of Poe, visiting your home in the darkness of the night, staying to pet Poe and snoop around in your belongings. It seemed that Poe had grown fond of him too, especially when Lawrence would bring treats for him. Poe would follow him around silently as he walked around your house, looking in your draws and trying to remember where everything was. By the second week, he had your house all mapped out.

 

-

 

It started out as an innocent fascination. And to be honest, it did. But it grew into something more. Something darker, less innocent and sweet. But, he couldn’t take it anymore. This itch… it had escalated, slowly at first, until it was the white-hot rash burning at his skin that he knew today. It wasn’t his fault, he would reason with himself. It was not his fault. It wasn’t. You were the one to be held accountable for. Not him.

Your existence was magnetic, Lawrence couldn’t keep himself away, he was continuously pulled in.

What if someone else was pulled to you? What would he do if someone else tried to take you away?  You would forget all about him. The mere thought terrified him until he was shaking and tearing away at his long hair, his scalp red-raw from his insistent nails. He couldn’t let someone take you away from him. You were _his_. He had to obtain you, selfishly keep you from leaving so no one could discover your angelic existence.

Then, he would never let you leave. If you tried to run (but why would you want to?), Lawrence would amputate your legs. You didn’t need them anyway. Lawrence could provide for you. If you tried to fight back (again, you would never need to, Lawrence wouldn’t mistreat you, he cared for you too much), he would saw away at your arms. Then he could care for you.

It sounded… perfect. You were perfect.

He had already noted the times in which the lights in your house would turn off, leaving the bathroom light on (cute), so it was easy entering again.

A while after the lights were gone, and the noise in the shabby house had died down, he crept in, scarily silent. Poe noticing him and rubbing against his legs as he walked through. He packed a small back full of your clothes and necessities. He put Poe and the bag into the backseat of his car.

He was shaking, whether from nerves or excitement he didn’t know. You would finally be his.

-

 

You remember the night so vividly. You had fed your darling cat, Poe, before changing into your night clothes. Hopping into bed and falling asleep without a problem.

You woke up, unsure of the time or what woke you. There was a dip in the bed near your feet, you assumed it was Poe. “Poe, I told you not to lay on my sheets. You get fur everywhere…” you moaned groggily.

“Your voice… It’s as heavenly as I remember it, even when you’re tired from sleep. You… draw me in.”

You flinched. Your cat couldn’t talk. You slowly turned your head, eyes adjusting to the dark at a snail’s pace. Long blond hair, tied into a messy ponytail. Ocean eyes, staring into your soul.

“You remember me, right? It’s me, Lawrence! Though, you did call me ‘Plant Boy’ for a while…” he spoke. His voice hesitant yet excited. You could see the glimmer of hope in his eyes. You nodded. You didn’t know how he got in your house, or how he knew where you lived, why he was here. You were afraid of what he was capable of. He smiled, a hand clutching at his arm and his shoulders hunched, a nervous habit.

“What are you doing here… Lawrence?” you asked, heart palpitating. He smiled nervously, his eyes shifting away from yours and his ears reddening. “I like you. A lot… I want you. Want you to be mine.”

You could feel the sweat beading on your forehead.

“We’re practically strangers… I don’t think you’ve thought this through,” you tried.

Lawrence frowned, brows furrowing. “H-how could you say that… I… I’ll take good care of you…”

“Lawrence, I think you should leave.”

Lawrence shook his head, fists clenching. He looked angry. He stood from the bed, making eye contact. “It’s okay, (Y/N), you don’t know what you need. But I do.”

This was the part you remembered most vividly.

The tightening in your chest, heart beating rapidly. Your voice getting caught in your throat, unable to call for help as he paced towards you. His hands, shaky, wrapped around your throat. You could feel the strength in them.

“It’s okay, my love. Nothing’s g-going to hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you…”

His hands constricted around your throat, not hurting you, but restricting blood flow, making you light-headed. Your own hands pulled at his wrists, tears running down your face.

He looked more scared than you. He trembled, his palms cold and sweaty around your throat.

You lost consciousness. He hugged your dead weight to his chest.

 

-

 

When you awoke, you felt groggy and dazed. Your eyes adjusted quickly, noticing that you weren’t in your bedroom.

It came back to you in flashes. Hopeful eyes. Anger. Furrowing of the brows. Dizziness. Fear. Blue eyes blurred by tears.

Lawrence.

You struggled in discomfort, the tape around your wrists digging into your skin. You were bound to a wooden chair, a blanket draped over your shoulders. Though, the room you were in was comforting. Soft lights lit the room, plants littered over every surface, green curtains and sheets. The view from the window was beautiful, the tall skyscrapers lit in the darkness of the night. You allowed your gaze to linger on the window, trying to calm your beating heart.

“(Y/N? You’re awake… I’m g-glad.”

Your stare dropped to your feet. You didn’t want to see him.

“You fit in the room so nicely. Like a puzzle piece. See? I knew it was meant to be.” He muttered, almost to himself.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his chin resting on his hand. Staring at you. Admiring, even.

“I hate to have to tie you up, but I can’t trust you just yet. Just for now, okay?”

You nodded. Afraid.

“Hey, look at me.” You didn’t want to. You really didn’t want to let him think you would bend to his will so easily, but you were so afraid.

 You shifted your gaze to his, slowly, biting your lip as nerves buzzed through your body. His hair was down, blond strands laying over his shoulders. It looked soft. His shirt lay abandoned on the floor, showing off his pale and toned stomach. You pulled your gaze from his stomach to his biceps; a thick ring of ink circled each arm. You wondered what the tattoos meant, or if they even had a meaning. You had to admit, he was attractive, perhaps in the more unconventional sense.   He wasn’t clean-shaven and tan or prince-charming, he was lean muscle and porcelain skin and stubble and pine and musk. He terrified you, and yet his very presence helped you relax your muscles, steady your breathing and accept where you were.

That’s why he was so dangerous.

“That’s my good girl. _My_ good girl,” he purred, a blush prominent on his face. You rubbed your thighs together, unable to wring your hands together. His gaze flicked down to your thighs, yours following it. You were wearing a beige summer dress, soft pale pink thigh-highs, a pattern of little vines climbing up your legs.

You were unsure as to why you hadn’t noticed your change of clothes before.

“Oh, do you like it? I bought it just for you. I think you suit pink. So… innocent,” he smiled.

You didn’t reply, keeping your gaze on your thighs. His face twisted in frustration. “You seemed to like talking before, why not anymore? Have… have I done same thing wrong?”

You sighed. It wouldn’t help you to stay silent forever.

“I… You didn’t ask me if I wanted to come here. You took me here leaving me with no choice.”

Lawrence shook his head, laughing to himself.

“I told you, you don’t know what you want, what you need! You wouldn’t have known if you wanted to come here, so I made the decision for you. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll take care of you, and you don’t need to do anything but stay here with me. Plus, what would I have done if you had been swept away by someone else? What would I do without you? Silly girl.”

During his speech, he stood and began pacing towards you. Kneeling in front of you, he placed his hands over your bare knees, squeezing firmly before rubbing his hands over your thighs. You shook your head, afraid of what he would do. “Please… no.”

“It’s okay, my pet, I won’t touch you there. Not yet. Just… let me feel your skin. I’ve dreamed about running my hands over your soft thighs, feel the warmth your blood creates. I… want to create marks, brand you as mine.” As he spoke, he ran his hands over your thighs, resting his head on them and tracing figure eights with his thumbs.

There he stayed, his chest rising and falling evenly, your combined warmth making you feel safe and warm.

He said he wouldn’t touch you… there… yet. He seemed lonely and wanting someone to love. As insane as it sounded, you could understand him. If you were to gain his trust maybe he would let you leave as you wished.

You could only hope.

He fell asleep like that, his warm breaths raising gooseflesh over your thighs. Soon after Lawrence fell asleep you felt your eyelids become heavy, falling into slumber.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

[My Tumblr](https://trashczar.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a smutty chapter two as requested by i_wanna_mcfxcking_die_owo on the btd discord! Please remember that btd is a messed up game and make sure to read the added tags for your safety. This work is for entertainment purposes only, do not use this to harm yourself!  
> Thank you <3  
> (Much thanks to atomic-honeybee for being an amazing friend and beta!! <3)

As you awoke, you were keenly aware of your surroundings.

That same room. Plants in every corner, a beautiful view, those green curtains. Nothing in particular had changed, it looked a little cleaner than when you had last been awake.

What day was it? How long had you been here for? Days passed quickly here, with Lawrence’s tea doing nothing to help that.

He wasn’t in the room, you noted. Your binds were of average strength today. He liked to change them often, he didn’t want them to make you too uncomfortable.

It was… odd. He kept you bound, no contact with the outside view bar from that tease of a window. But, he took care of you. He had kept his promise. He would let you shower as often as you wished, brushed your hair, changed your clothing, fed you, kept you warm and sheltered. He’d even replaced that awful wooden chair with a much more comfortable one. The most bizarre part? He asked of nothing in return except for your company. He liked to touch your skin, feel it, smell it. He wanted to smell your natural odours, feel the wrinkles and skin folds. He wanted it all. And now, he had it.

But lately… He had been antsy.

It was only odd because of how comfortable he had become around you in the past few… however long you had been there. No more nervous twitches or stutters. No, he wasn’t confident, no. He was… content. You liked this side of him more than his frightening side, when he would let his hair loose, and stare at you with those eyes, those eyes that promised you pain and suffering. That’s when he would brew some tea. You would, more often than not, partake too. It was more calming than you would think.

This odd, antsy change had you wondering. What could have possibly happened to him? The only times he left the apartment was when he left for work. He would even have groceries delivered, not needing to venture out for any other reason. Had something happened in the little time before and after work on his way back to the apartment?

No… He trusted you. He confided in you, often actually. He would have told you if something had happened.

Why couldn’t he talk to you? More importantly; what was bothering him so much that he couldn’t talk to you about it?

The click of locks startled you from your thoughts, you gazed to your left, watching as the doorhandle slowly turned to reveal the blond. He slowly trudged in, dragging his feet as he dropped his satchel-bag somewhere along the hallway. His eyes were on the ground. He looked exhausted. Now that you thought about it, he had been much longer than you had expected.

“Sorry I took so long, pet, work held me up…” he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket, making his way to the bathroom.

“It’s alright… I slept anyway.”

“Oh.” He didn’t seem to be fully focussed on what you were saying, so you didn’t bother repeating yourself. He shut the door behind him and you could hear the tell-tale sound of running water. Steam crept from under the door, and you could hear him lightly humming.

You sighed. You were in need of a shower too, your last one was two… a few days ago. You didn’t do much, so you didn’t need to shower as often, but at this point it was very uncomfortable.

Soon enough, Lawrence emerged from the bathroom a towel around his waist and another being rubbed into his hair, drying off the excess water.

“Law… could I please have one too?”

Lawrence widened his eyes, pausing his movements, “Yes… Of course, pet. I’ll just put some clothes on and I’ll be right out.”

You nodded, waiting patiently. It didn’t take long for Lawrence to come back from his bedroom, clothed and a fresh towel in hand. You heard him shuffling around the bathroom for a minute, probably picking up his dirty clothes and making sure your shampoo and bodywash was accessible.

Untying your wrists, Lawrence gave them a soft kiss, before tugging you towards the bathroom.

“Your things are already inside, but I still need to get you some clothes. I’ll grab them and come back in a second.”

You nodded, “Yes. Thanks.”

“No problem, pet.”

He left you in the bathroom, so you shut the door, beginning to undress. You twisted the nozzle, sighing at the feeling of hot water that flowed from the showerhead. You stepped inside, resting for a moment in the hot water, wetting yourself.

“(Y/N), I thought I’d bring some pyjamas instead of normal clothes. It’ll be dark soon, so theres no need to wor—oh…”

He hadn’t bothered to knock, spying you in the nude. You weren’t too bothered or upset, you knew it was a mistake, but you were still embarrassed. “Ah… Okay, that’s fine…”

Your flinch preceded the quick and loud slam of the door.

 

Lawrence stood on the other side of the door, face burning and eyes wide. His hand pushed his hair back, clutching onto his bangs.

‘Fuck’, he thought.

He was… in need. See, he was happy that you were here, overjoyed even! But now he was being selfish. He wanted more from you. He desired to lay with you, clothes long abandoned.

You wouldn’t want that. But he desperately did.

His eyes lit up as an idea came to mind.

 

After turning off the shower and the steam had withered, you realised that Lawrence must’ve been cooking dinner. It smelled delicious. Roast, maybe? Towelling off, you pulled on the fresh clothes. A sigh came from your mouth, why did female pyjamas have to be so skimpy? As you tossed your clothes in the dirty laundry basket, you slowly made your way to the kitchen, taking a seat as you watched Lawrence work.

His head lifted in surprise, “Oh! You’re done already, huh? Well… dinner is almost ready so…”

You nodded, the corners of your lips lifting slightly.

“Are you… cold? I can give you my sweater if you’d like?” Lawrence’s gaze was on your skin, warmth rising to his face as he took you in.

Short and revealing… The skimpy shorts exposed the majority of your thighs, skin ablaze from the intensity of his stare. On your upper half you wore a singlet that failed to come down enough to cover your lower stomach, just hiding your bellybutton. Feeling self-conscious, you attempted to pull it down, only for it to snap back up to the place it had started.

You weren’t cold, if anything, you were too warm, your face ardent with pink.

“No. But thank you.”

Lawrence slowly tore his eyes from your exposed skin, focusing back onto the dinner he was preparing. He paused, perhaps hesitating, then he walked towards the cabinet, picking out a glass. He poured an orange beverage from a small bottle into the glass. He poured himself a drink from a different bottle.

“Here, I put some vitamins inside, should help you since you don’t see too much of the sun these days.”

You thanked him, taking small sips of the drink as you watched him toss vegetables around in a pan. Early in your stay there, he had told you that he had never been too talented at cooking. He said that he learned so that he could feed you good food. At first, the food at been mediocre at best. Edible. But now, he was your personal chef. Usually, he would ask you what you wanted to eat, but maybe he had a craving tonight.

“Sorry, but I need to get into the cupboard underneath the bench…” Lawrence pointed at the hidden cupboard door that was immediately in front of your legs. Quickly standing and moving the chair out of his way, he crouched down to retrieve a few bowls.

What surprised you was the small, wet puddle that you had left on the seat. Quickly before Lawrence could see, you wiped it away. He smiled warmly at you as he moved the chair back where it was, gesturing you to take your seat.

The wet feeling in your panties shocked you once more. Once you had noticed it, you became aware of a dull throbbing that took place in your panties.

You were… extremely aroused.

Your senses were heightened, and each time you readjusted your position on the seat, you had to bite your lip and force yourself to abstain from grinding down into the chair. You glanced up at Lawrence, he was completely preoccupied with putting all the food into a square, porcelain dish.

You watched him for a moment, making sure he wouldn’t suddenly look back, before reaching down into your panties.

Your eyes widened at the amount of slick that had pooled in your underwear. Your face heated as you began circling your cunt, rubbing and massaging. Everything was extremely sensitive for some reason. Gasping as your finger swiped over your clit, you bit your lip to contain the noises that tried to force their way out. You felt naughty, touching yourself while Lawrence stood only metres away, it ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach like nothing had ever done before.

You squealed as a rough hand clamped over your wrist, “(Y/N)… Look how bad you’re being, touching yourself… That’s not what good girls do.”

Flinching, you turned your head to look up at Lawrence. His expression was dark, eyes glassy and intense as he stared down at where his hand squeezed you. His cheeks flushed, panting.

Cursing under his breath, his eyes lit up.

“It… worked.”

Reaching around your waist, he lifted you over his shoulder, forcing your hand out of your pants. Kicking open the door to his room, he threw you down onto the bed. Staring down at you from the end of the bed, he groaned. His fingers deftly unbuttoned his shirt, having already shrugged off his jacket.

“I-it really worked. Look at you, your panties are filthy… I… can’t wait to taste you.”

Your eyes widened, he had drugged you. The drink he had given you… it had been saltier than usual, now that you thought about it.

But you were too horny to care, he wanted you, and fuck if you wanted him too.

You bit your lip, a wave of arousal washed over you as his skin was revealed, thick sections of inked skin circled his large biceps. He paused, his hungry eyes taking in your bareness, those skimpy shorts showing off more than intended.

Maybe it was intentional, Lawrence had been the one to buy them.

“Fuck…” he mumbled, “Ever since I first saw you, your luscious thighs, full of muscle and blood. So warm…” Crawling up towards you, he came at you slowly, your heart beating so fast and hard that you thought that it would come out of your throat. “The fat of your stomach… How deep do I have to cut for your precious lifeforce to spill out…? I wonder… But not tonight. No. I just… need to have you…”

His large hands gripped onto your thighs dragging his hand up and down its length, inching closer to the where the shorts began to cover your sopping pussy.

The heat in your stomach was becoming uncomfortable, your private’s throbbing. Clenching your hands in the bed sheets you gazed into Lawrence’s eyes, seeing nothing but pure hunger and dominance.

Lawrence leaned over you, pushing his pelvis into your own, groaning as he watched your face twist in pleasure and pain. It hurt… “Lawrence… do something… It—”

“Hmmm… I don’t know, princess… touching yourself isn’t what good girls do…”

Picking up his discarded shirt, he began to tie your wrists to the bedhead. You tested the bonds, tight.

He settled himself in between your thighs, forcing your legs apart, chuckling as you did nothing to resist. Your face red and hot, eyes watery and fucked-out, pussy clenching in anticipation, lips bitten raw… even though he hadn’t touched you yet. His hands pulled at your shorts that left nothing to the imagination, revealing your pretty, pink panties.

“Aw… did you wear these just for me, princess? So… polite.”

You were… mad. You didn’t want this, but because of Lawrence’s actions, if he didn’t touch you, you didn’t know what you would do. It felt as if you would die if Lawrence didn’t touch you soon.

“You… chose my clothes.”

Lawrence’s face was anything but amused, painfully squeezing your thigh in reprimand. “Good girls don’t speak back, princess…”

He was rougher now, ripping off your shirt, leaving it at your wrists, not needing to untie your hands. Pushing his face into your neck, he bit. Hard. You cried out as his teeth sunk into your throat, thrashing as arousal filled your body.

“You’ll do well to be a good little girl, hm? It’s okay. I have you, I’m gonna make you feel really good…”

Nodding, you agreed. “I’m sorry, Lawrence… I’ll be good…”

He began lapping at your folds, sucking and kissing at your clit until you were squeezing his head with your thighs, but he forced them back apart, fucking your sensitive hole with that skilled tongue. A burning heat formed in the pit of your stomach, the fire being fed at each suck to your sensitive bud.

You let out a loud moan as he slid a finger inside your hungry slit. You vision was blurred, hands gripping onto the bed sheets as you thrusted up onto his face, biting down hard on your lip as he added another.

“Oh pet… you’re ready for me…” His face was moist with your arousal, the flame in your gut burning hotter as you watched him suck the slick from his fingers, icy blue eyes trained on your own.

His pants were tossed somewhere behind him, underwear pushed down just low enough to expose his hard, dripping cock. The blunt girth was pushed up against your slit, teasing you and himself. With one sharp thrust, his length was buried deep inside of you, ripping a guttural scream from the depths of your lungs.

“Fuck!!” you screamed, thrashing against your bonds as you begged for more. More more _more_.

And he gave you more, fucking into you hard and without care, nails digging into your scorching hot skin. Your body was on fire, pussy leaking like a faucet.

And Lawrence loved every single part about it. The needy look in your eyes, your hands that grasped the fabric that bound them, gripping tighter with every new thrust. You wanted him, he could tell with the way your walls clenched around him. You had never wanted him like this before.

You were warm, burning up his cock and it felt so fucking _good_. He sped up his thrusts, wanting to feel your hot cum coating his dick.

You gasped, squirming on his dick, crying out as he began rubbing on your clit. Your skin erupted in goosebumps as you reached your climax, broken moans filling the room.

A hand wrapped around your neck, cutting off blood circulation and your airways, his cock still slamming into you. Your eyes widened, bugging out of your eye sockets as your skin tinted red became purple. Your hands struggling in your bonds, you thrashed your body, staring up into his carnivorous eyes, staring down at you with no remorse, a sly smile lifting onto his face.

He fucked into your sensitive pussy, stealing another orgasm from you as you lost consciousness.

Your slick tasted delicious, he wondered if your blood was as sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this shameless smut!! Please comment below and let me know if you liked this!!! For more writing go check out my Yandere writing tumblr, Wickedyan. :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked please comment below and kudos!! Also, if there are any mistakes please let me know as this was edited but unbeta'd <3


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